


It Goes On And On

by gaialux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, M/M, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2879390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mystery Spot coda. Dean keeps dying and Sam does what he can to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Goes On And On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arysteia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysteia/gifts).



Dean has died 71 times today.

This is not an exaggeration, a mistake, or some sort of confusion. Sam has rows of lines marked off on a piece of paper he keeps slipped in his pocket. Sets of five in a tally, crossed off and off and off.

He doesn't know how to stop it.

A yell from the other room.

72.

 

* * *

 

Sam's been in love with his brother for a while. It slowly crept up on him as the years passed and stayed, warm and solid in his chest. A permanent inclusion he's never wanted to remove. But he's still kept it a secret. Dean has no idea and, until recently, things have been fine that way.

Now Sam never knows when he's going to stop watching his brother die.

 _Heat Of The Moment_ jolts through him and his eyes fly open on day 73 (or is it 74? 75? he's started getting scared, now -- maybe losing track even if he does mark things down).

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Words he's heard so often when he goes through the motions, but this time Sam doesn't let Dean finish lacing his shoes or get up off the bed. He throws back his own sheets, leans across, and touches his slightly parted lips to his brother's.

Dean freezes. Then, in a strangled voice asks, "What the hell?"

Maybe in a different world, a different set of circumstances he would come up with a good answer for this. He might sit Dean down and explain everything in slow, clear detail. But they're in  _this_ world, and Sam doesn't have the time.

"I kissed you," he says instead.

"I knowthat," Dean says --  _spits_ \-- the words. He wipes a hand over the back of his mouth and remains staring at Sam, wide-eyed. " _Why_?"

Sam shrugs. He feels surprisingly calm. "I wanted to. Want to do more than that, actually -- have for a long time. But I figured you'd react like this."

Dean's mouth opens and closes a few times with no sound escaping. He raises a hand, points at Sam, then lowers it. Sam doesn't know whether the feeling rising in his throat is laughter or tears. This shouldn't be happening, but neither should Dean dying day after day.

"Please," Sam finds himself saying.

Something washes over Dean and his eyes soften. "You don't," he said. "I don't know what's got into you, but you don't."

Sam tracks his hand up Dean's arm and settles it on his cheek. Dean almost flinches. "Yes I do."

Right here, he could explain the deaths. Like he's explained them six dozen times before. But he doesn't. There's not enough time.

Just like that, Dean crumbles. Façade completely taken away so it's just Dean -- the Dean that Sam's  _always_ known, right down to the core -- and Sam. The way it should always be, even in this fucked-up time loop of a world.

He lets Sam slide a hand to the back of his head and draw him in for another kiss. It's messy, wet, and going to be bruising. Sam manages to clank their teeth together and even nicks Dean's lip.  _Blood_.  _Blood of his blood._

And he doesn't care.

Dean goes down into the mattress and Sam follows. Legs braced on either side of his brother's legs so he can get better leverage, kiss Dean even deeper.

Sam wishes their was a timer on this. He wants to know  _exactly_ when Dean's going to go this time -- and maybe even how. To prepare himself for the shock that comes even after almost a hundred times.

"Sam," Dean says from beneath him, and Sam's eyes fly down. "Are we doing this or not?"

The  _we_ is enough for Sam. He finds Dean's mouth again and his hands tear at the buttons of his shirt. Dean's chest is warm and solid against his hand and Sam wants to cling. Never wants to let go and lose Dean again.

"Sammy," Dean murmurs against his mouth and Sam finally becomes aware of his cock straining against his pants.

He abandons Dean's chest and goes for his jeans, freeing the belt he's likely just slipped through the loops and tugging the denim down. Dean lets him, helps him, picks his hips up off the bed and Sam gets Dean's jeans pooled around his ankles. Only a thin piece of fabric separating him from seeing his brother naked and whole in front of him.

Dean's not dead yet. They might finally be able to do this. He pulls down and that last barrier is shattered.

Sam can't bring himself to regret it one little bit.

One more look at Dean's eyes to make sure it  _is_ still okay. They're jumping over lines here, crossing them in every direction. Dean just looks solidly back at him with a small smile on his face.  _Yes_ , Sam knows he's saying.  _Yeah, you can do it, Sammy_.

So he does. 

 

* * *

 

Of course he dies again.

And again.

Again.

 

* * *

 

But then it stops.


End file.
